


Lesbihonest

by DeerEggs



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Friendship, Multi, PTSD, Transgender Sole Survivor, Transphobia, Transwoman, going to add more tags and relationships as story progresses, transgender main character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 08:41:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5999392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeerEggs/pseuds/DeerEggs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A woman and her ghoulish friend scour the Commonwealth for some fun and some romance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Defrosting

**Author's Note:**

> second fic in years, this time with even more gayness!!! this is partially an apology for how hetero my first fic is turning out to be, partially because i can't stop thinking of these two adorable dorks, AND the fallout fandom needs more transgender characters and more gayness :3c  
> my tumblr's over at egg-hoard.tumblr.com ;3c

Nora’s feelings about her had quickly changed from “I love you,” to “I want to fix you.” It was far from Vickie’s thought of an ideal relationship. Soon they drifted apart, a loveless marriage spawning a single, unwanted child.  
“Being a father will remind you of how to be a man again,” Nora had explained at the blank look that Vickie--then Cyrus--had given the newborn. Vickie finally gave in at that. A child meant she was trapped.  
Nora had been half right. Looking at Shaun and feeling none of that “maternal love” made her feel like less of a woman.  
They’d been in a completely passionless marriage for three whole years. Shaun had come a few months near the end, and Vickie had started taking hormones secretly a month after. She’d stashed it in a safe under the bed, where Nora refused to look in fear of bugs. For the last few months before hell was unleashed, Vickie ignored Nora as much as she could and made sure the woman never saw her changing body.

Despite the fact they hadn’t loved each other in years, Vickie still felt a pang of hurt when while changing into her vault suit, Nora still had the gall to pull a face of disgust at the budding breasts she’d seen on Vickie’s chest and the new roundness in her hips. When they met eyes, Nora pulled Shaun to her chest as if the baby could protect her from a nonexistent enemy. Even with nuclear war upon them, Nora still couldn’t accept her. Vickie felt that she shouldn’t have expected any less.

And now here she was. Staring blankly at the corpse of her former wife, at the space between her arms where the baby had once been. She felt like she should… care a little. After all, this had been her _wife_ , Shaun had been her _child_.  
As she pulled the ring off of Nora’s cooling hand, she realized that she owed Nora nothing. And while it was at least unfortunate that Nora had died, she couldn’t help but admit that she felt free. No baby--she honestly didn’t care very much for where he was, although she felt some urge to find him. He was a baby after all--and now no abusive wife. Why wouldn’t she feel happy?

During her scavenging in the vault, she’d found a little case. The contents, makeup, a razor, and shaving cream, made her pause. Before… all this, she’d tried it. Once. Nora had thrown a fit, called her “less than a man.” Vickie couldn’t agree more, but she couldn’t voice her opinion while Nora was manhandling her to the bathroom to “wash that junk off his face.”  
After using the slightly dull razor, bits of shaving cream, and some rusty colored water, her stubble and small beard were gone. She rubbed her smooth face excitedly. And then, for once, in this terrifying, confusing place, something felt right.  
Using the remnants of a shattered mirror, she carefully applied some concealer over her jaw, covering what little remained of her stubble and over an unhealed bruise from when Nora had hit her with a bible. It took a full two minutes of slow maneuvering and careful fingers before her eyeliner wings were perfect, which she was very proud of. And finally, a dash of red to her lips.  
For a long few minutes, she just stared at herself. Even in the dirty shard of mirror, she could tell how beautiful she looked. For the first time, she finally saw the woman she’d always longed to be.  
It was a struggle not to cry and smudge her carefully applied make-up, so instead she busied herself with the razor and her hair. It was shoulder length, but straightened and slightly greasy so Nora wouldn’t accuse her of trying to look more like a girl. She shook her head a bit and then carefully cut off lock after lock of hair until it was a closely cropped pixie cut.  
After attacking the grease with cold sink water and half a bar of soap, she finally stood and hurried out of the room.  
Pocketing the make up case, she scurried through the rest of the vault, smacking an occasional giant cockroach with a disgusted squeal, and side-stepping decayed bodies with frightened little noises.  
Armed with an old handgun and a baton, she made her way out into the world, up through the elevator.  
Aside from the mostly brown plant life, it didn’t look too bad, honestly.  
Knowing Sanctuary was close by, she set off at a slow trot. A big ugly bug stung her a few times, and after killing it she stood there holding her arm and fighting back tears. She had always been a total wuss with pain. Nora had told her that well enough, and had accused her of doing it on purpose to seem more “womanly.” It was one of the many times that Nora had told Vickie that becoming a woman would mean she’d be less of a person, which had always confused Vickie to no end. 

She had to get over Nora, and fast. She was dead and gone and now Vickie had a new life to take advantage of! It couldn’t possibly be any worse than before. Sure, Sanctuary had been safe due to her role as an important doctor in a few battles, but before Sanctuary… she shuddered at the memory of neighbors, gunned down in the streets for having “too much food.” She distinctly remembered witnessing a desperate neighbor selling her infant for extra water, some cans of Cram and a box of Sugar Bombs. To feed her other kids, she’d said. Vickie couldn't meet her eyes as she watched the tiny child wail as he was carried off.

 

She’d been scampering along for about five minutes when she’d reached a rickety old bridge, leading straight into her old home. She paused at the end of the bridge and noticed her hands were shaking. Sanctuary.  
She had mixed feelings about the place. Always had, ever since they first moved in. It was the ideal place to live, free from the rest of the country’s resource lacking turmoil. And everyone inside ignored what happened outside. They were happy to sit back in their quaint houses with their baby blue paint, holding their babies and kissing their spouses. Nora had tried to pull her into the same life and had kept her from trying to leave, trying to go out and bring food and water to the hungry kids just a few towns over. She didn't care. Vickie had never understood why. 

Once past the bridge, she paused and turned on a circle, taking in the sights. In a way, it looked better than it did before. Except for the scrawny river, which was the color of mud.  
She squinted, hardly believing her eyes as she peered over by the bank. On the bank sat a porcelain tub, cracked with age and growing mold, filled with water and a very large man. A large anchor leaned against the side of the tub.  
Curious, she made her way down to the bank and stood beside the bathtub. The man’s skin was mottled and grey, a mess of pockmarks and cracks and crevices. On his neck looked to be four long lines of something dark blue and feathery. Hardly able to control herself, she reached out and brushed her calloused fingertips over the strips of silky feathery material.  
In the next moment her hand was caught in a bruising grip, the man’s skin cool and clammy and wet against her vault suit, water sinking in and wetting her skin. He blinked at her blearily, pitch black and glassy meeting wide and green. After a moment he sat up in the tub, fixing his captain’s hat as if trying to look presentable, despite the fact that he had been napping in a tub full of cold water, and his captain’s ensemble didn't seem to fit him well anymore. It seemed like he’d become a body builder overnight and just hasn't decided to get a new pair of pants for his beefy legs. And fins. He had fins, too.  
“Um,” he scratched his chin, scarred features pulling back into a nervous smile, “Sorry to grab you, lass, y’just startled me.” His Scottish accent was thick and endearing, and she found herself drawn in. He let go off her wrist, but she just thrust her hand out again awkwardly.  
“Uh. It's… It’s okay. I’m Vickie.” She winced a little, hearing her own voice and suddenly filled with anxiety. She suddenly found herself more worried that he’d be angry, that he would find out about her through her voice, than the fact that she had just met a finned and gilled man sleeping in an old bathtub.  
“Nice t’meet you, I’m Mallory.” He smiled charmingly, and his hand engulfed hers and gave it a brief and hearty shake. She felt herself grin too wide as relief swept over her.  
As he stood to his full height, towering way over her, she stepped back. “What are you doing in the tub?” She asked, looking at his soaking wet and stained uniform.  
“Ah, just had to take a quick soak. Skin dries up real fast.” She nodded and bit her tongue to keep from asking the obvious question, _what the hell happened to your skin?_ But, that would be rude. Her mother had always taught her that asking someone about their differences could be offensive.  
Besides, he seemed nice. A little odd, for obvious reasons, but nice.  
“Oh, okay.” She had to refrain from biting her lip and messing up her carefully applied lipstick. “Uh, what happened?” Vickie gestured around her, to the ramshackle houses and dirty water and broken bridge, “to everything?”

“Honestly?” He stepped out of the tub and onto dry land, setting a hand into the anchor leaning against it. “I’ve been trying to figure that out m’self. See, I only just recently came onto land. Don’t know for how long I was stranded at sea.” He shot her a grin, full of dirty sharp teeth and friendly warmth. “Maybe we can figure that out together?” And he swung the anchor up over his shoulder like it was nothing, and she gaped at him.  
After overcoming her initial shock, because _goddamn_ , she looked him square in the eyes, she straightened and perked up, grinning wide to match his own award winning smile. “I’d like that.”


	2. I'm So Gay. Like, Really Gay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> REALLY short chapter, but i couldn't resist and i'm too sleepy to write any more. :Pc gonna be writing them headin into goodneighbor soon tho and vickie's gay self falling for all the cuties there. *blows kisses at Daisy and Fahrenheit*

They'd been traveling for weeks together. They stuck to themselves, wary of strangers but trying to be helpful where they could. Both of them tended to enjoy nature, no matter how dangerous or dead it seemed.

The one thing Vickie loved about her current situation was the stars. 

“Hey, come here.”   
Mallory looked over at her, laying out on an outcropping of stone, exposed and vulnerable as she looked up at the twinkling night sky. Without question, he walked over and laid down beside her.   
“The stars are so pretty now.” She muttered breathlessly. Mallory nodded although she didn't see it.  
After a long silence, she bit her lip and then opened her mouth. “This… This isn't going to get… _Weird_ , right?” And this time she looked at him, so he looked at her, a look of confusion on his sharp features.  
“Weird, how?”  
She waved her hands, gesturing at nothing and everything. “Just. I don’t know-- we-we’ve been traveling together for weeks now, right? And now we're star-gazing. Together.” her cheeks were flushed, he could tell, even with just the light of the stars and moon to illuminate her. She gave a small, almost hysterical sounding giggle. “It’s like a romantic set up, right?”  
“Darling,” he cut her off, “If it’s romance you’re concerned about, i’ll have to disappoint you.” She blinked. “I’m quite gay.”  
“Oh!”  
She settled down again, cheeks even pinker than before. “That’s. Okay. That’s cool…”  
After a moment of silence, she piped up again, “good, ‘cause I am, too.”  
Grinning, he pushed himself up onto one elbow. “Ah, so _that’s_ why you couldn't get your eyes off that one cute settler girl yesterday, eh?” He laughed when she covered her face with her hands and turned even more red. “Don’t worry, dear, I’ll find you a girlfriend soon enough.”  
“Oh, don’t!” She laughed out, lightly punching his shoulder.   
“Just you wait, i’m going to set you up with the cutest girl you’ve ever seen.”


End file.
